THREE MONTHS AND way too many fucking hours. That was how long it’d been since I’d forced myself to walk out of Reid’s life.

Not because I wanted to, but because after the surgery to repair bleeding in his brain, he’d woken up with no recollection of who I was.

None.

Zip.

Zero.

And I would never, ever forget his vacant expression as he looked at me.

“Who are you?”

My smile fell as I dropped my hand from reaching out for him and somehow managed to whisper, “What?”

Reid shifted himself up on the hospital bed. “Do I know you?”

His words made the blood in my veins go cold. That voice, so curious and innocent, held none of the familiar warmth I’d come to know in the last few weeks.

No. No, this isn’t happening. He was playing a trick on me, and any second now, he’d crack a smile and say, “Gotcha.”

Any time now, Reid. Any time…

But he kept watching me, and I kept standing there staring down at the man I’d fallen for, the one looking at me with no recognition whatsoever on his face. Soon, Reid’s gaze shifted from me to the door, like he was uncomfortable with a stranger in his room.

A stranger…oh God.

Panic seized my chest, and I tried to rationalize. It’s temporary, I told myself. He just woke up. Of course things are fuzzy. But in the pit of my stomach, I knew. I knew.

I was going to be fucking sick.

I ran a hand through my hair and swallowed back the bile that tried to rise in my throat as I struggled to come up with some explanation as to why I was there. “I, uh”—my words came out hoarse, and I cleared my throat—“work here. And was just coming by to check on…things.”

“Oh.” Reid looked over at the vase of white lilies and blue hydrangeas that I’d set on the table by the window. “You brought me flowers?” he asked.

Fuuuck. The flowers. How was I supposed to explain that if he had no idea who the hell I was?

I rubbed my chest, fairly certain what I was feeling had to be indicative of a heart attack. With any luck, I’d pass out in a few seconds.

A few seconds passed. No such luck.

“Someone was delivering those and asked if I’d drop them by.” Stupid. I mentally kicked myself as soon as I said it, but no explanation other than the truth came into my brain.

“They’re nice. Thanks for bringing them.”

I swallowed. “You’re welcome.”

An awkward silence descended as I did a quick sweep of him, unable to help myself from checking to make sure he was otherwise okay. When my eyes landed back on his mesmerizing brown ones, I gave him a forced smile. I needed to leave. That much was painfully obvious.

“Is there…anything I can get you? Before I go?” I said.

“No. Wait, actually—”

This was it. The “gotcha” moment.

Reid squinted and held his hand up to shield his eyes. “If you could close the blinds, that would be great. It’s a little bright.”

“The blinds. Right.” It took me a few beats to realize that meant move. With a numb body, I somehow shut all the blinds and made sure to grab the note from the flowers before he had a chance to read it and say, “Ollie who?”

I looked back at him before I got to the door. He’d pulled his covers up and his eyes were closed, already drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

He doesn’t remember… He doesn’t remember me…

As terrified as I’d been before his surgery, I’d never entertained the possibility that my time with Reid was over. It didn’t seem real.

Any second now, I’d wake up and realize it was all a nightmare.

Any second now…

I never woke up.

With every day that passed, every phone call I made to his mom to check on him only to hear that, no, he still hadn’t regained memory of anything since his accident, the hope I’d carried dwindled. Every day I called, every day Reid grew physically stronger, but the answer was always the same.

“No. I’m sorry, Oliver. The doctor said it’s possible he may never remember,” his mom had finally said. Fuck, I’d never forget that day. It had been a full month since Reid’s surgery, and it was that day, and her words, that made it apparent Reid wasn’t ever going to remember me. Maybe I needed to somehow let go.

“For now, maybe it’s best if he concentrates on his recovery, on things that are familiar,” she’d said. And I’d read between the lines: without you. Not that she’d been malicious about it, because God knew I understood, but the pain was almost physically unbearable.

My number was erased from his phone. And I’d drifted back into the life of complacency I’d had before Reid. Actually, scratch that. I was no longer complacent, not after knowing what life could be like with him. No, there was another term for what I was.

Fucking. Miserable.

Mike sang along with the Black Eyed Peas, rapping something about humps and lovely lady lumps, on Big Bertha’s radio as he drove us back from a hospital drop-off, oblivious to my thoughts…or perhaps overcompensating for them.

“If you’ve got lady lumps, there’s a conversation here that’s long overdue,” I said.

“Deb was singin’ this song in the shower this morning, and now it’s on the damn radio. I swear it’s following me around. I can’t get it out of my head.” He flipped the channel to something with more twang. “Ah. That’s better.”

“Better is debatable.”

Mike glanced over at me. “You know what you need? Something that’ll perk you right up.”

“If this is about you trying to convince me to go to the National Porn Star Conference again, I’m out.”

“I wish you’d just think about it. Even Deb wants to go.” I shot him a glare, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine. No porn stars. But for real, we gotta bring you back to life, my man. You used to be all cheerful and shit.”

“I’m still cheerful,” I muttered.

“Oh yeah? Smile for me, then.”

I plastered on the biggest, fakest smile I could manage, and Mike reared back in his seat, cringing.

“On second thought, that’ll give me nightmares,” he said, and then turned into Joe’s Grab ’N Go.

Sitting up straighter, I braced my hand on the door. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Listen, Ollie. I’ve skipped out on comin’ here for months now, but I’m hungry, and you could use a decent cup of brew to help snap you out of that funk.”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t want to be here. And I’m not in a funk.”

“Hmm. Yeah, you might need something a little stronger than coffee.” As he put Big Bertha into park, he began to grind his hips on the seat and sang, “Oll-ieee needs a big…dick…right in his—”

“Okay,” I said loud enough to cover the rest of his words. “Hurry up, then.”

“Oh no, I’m not going without you.”

“Mike—”

“Stop,” he said, his humor fading. “Just stop being so scared and paranoid for one damn minute. You can’t avoid this place because you think you’ll run into Reid. And even if you do run into him one of these days, you’re gonna have to face him sooner or later, because this town’s too damn small for it not to happen eventually. And I know it’s gonna hurt like fuck, but you’re not a pussy. Are you? You a pussy?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Good. Now get out of the rig.”

When I didn’t make a move, Mike leaned across me and popped the door open. With a sigh, I unhooked my seatbelt and climbed out, slamming the door after me for good measure. When he rounded the front of the rig, he put his arm over my shoulder and gave me a shake. “Atta boy. Make sure to apologize to Joe for hurting his feelings by not visiting.”

Mike pulled open the door, and as we entered the convenience store, he called out, “Joe, my man. How the hell are ya?”

“Well, I’ll be.” Joe’s face lit up, and he slapped his hand on the counter when he saw us. “Where you boys been?”

“Starving.” Mike winked at him as he filled up a basket full of baked goods from the counter and then leaned over to put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Good to see you, Joe.”

The old man frowned and wagged his finger at us. “You’re never too busy for coffee and cakes, you hear me? You gotta eat, or all these fritters will go to waste and I’ll have to throw them out.”

“Don’t ever do that. We won’t be staying away again.” Mike nudged me. “Right, Ollie?”

“Uh, yeah. Right,” I said.

“You better not,” Joe said, as Mike gave him a salute and went off to grab a drink. “All of a sudden, three of my regulars, poof, gone. I tried not to take it all personal, you know.”

My brow furrowed. Me, Mike, and…? “Three?”

“Mhmm. You two and there was another guy, but I heard he had a bad accident a few months back.”

“You mean Reid?” Just being reminded of him made my chest ache.

“Yeah, you remember him? Such a nice fellow. Shame what happened to him.”

“You, uh, mean he hasn’t come in lately either?”

“No, but I can understand why. Heard he lost his memory and everything. Can you imagine? He probably doesn’t even remember he drinks coffee, and I had a new latte machine all set up and everything.”

As Joe continued to ramble on, all I could hear was that Reid hadn’t been there. I’d assumed life would be back to normal for him, including his latte habit. All those months of avoiding this place only to learn he had been doing the same. Although maybe he wasn’t purposely staying away like I was. Maybe he still didn’t realize he liked coffee. Or maybe he wasn’t recovering as well as I’d hoped.

Shit.

“Hey, Joe, you have any more of those onion ring chip things? You know what I’m talkin’ about?” Mike asked, his voice carrying across the store.

“I do in the back. One second,” Joe said, and then held a finger up. “Sorry, Ollie, I’ll be back. Don’t you be a stranger, now.”

“I won’t,” I said, and this time I meant it. What a silly fucking thing to do, stay away from Joe’s or anywhere because there was a remote possibility I could run into Reid. Hell, I wanted to see him, but what I didn’t want was to see the way he’d look at me, like I was nobody in his world.

A fresh pot of coffee sat on the stand like it was ready for me, and I poured a big cup as I thought about the last time I’d been here. It’d been around the same time I’d stopped calling to check on Reid, something that made me feel guilty, though it had been at the request of his family. I could feel the note he’d given me before he went back for surgery burning a hole in my pocket, its words taunting me even now. Never did I leave the house without the folded piece of paper, and I felt conflicted even carrying it around when I hadn’t exactly kept my promise.

“Excuse me.” As an arm reached across me to place a travel mug under the latte spout, my entire body went still. I didn’t even breathe.

I didn’t have to look over to know it was him. I’d recognize his voice anywhere, know the scent of his shampoo mixed in with the light spray of cologne even from across a crowded room. But Reid wasn’t across a room. He was standing beside me, and I’d been too caught up in my thoughts to notice his approach.

Just being near him again sent a flutter of excited butterflies through my stomach, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at him. He almost took my breath away, he was so fucking handsome. His dark, almost black hair was still cut short, and he was as put together as ever in a pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt. God, it’d been so long since I’d seen him, touched him, and my hands itched to reach for him, to pull him into my arms and hold him there. Being so close made me ache for him so badly it hurt.

As if he felt my gaze on him, Reid looked up, and I quickly turned away.

“Hey,” he said, “I know you.”

Wait, what? “You do?”

“Yeah…” As his eyes narrowed, I held my breath. “You brought flowers to my hospital room, right?”

Heat flooded my face as I lowered my head and focused on stirring my coffee. “Uh, yeah, I think I might’ve dropped them by…for someone.”

Wow. All the time we’ve spent together and I’m the flower delivery boy. Fuck me.

“Hey, Ollie,” Mike shouted, and I glanced up to see him round the corner with a bag of chips in his hand. “Look, I found—Oh shit.” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as dinner plates, as he looked between Reid and me, and then he cleared his throat and thumbed toward the door. “I’ll be in the rig…whenever…” He shot me an apologetic look and then hightailed it away.

Thanks a lot, asshole.

Reid cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips as he looked at me curiously. “Your name’s Ollie?” His gaze dropped to my name etched on my shirt. “Oliver?”

“Yes. Both, but my friends call me Ollie.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

He chewed on his lip for a moment, and then slowly shook his head. “Nothing.”

As he reached across me again for his mug, I wondered what that look had meant. But I didn’t have time to think about it for long, because Joe caught wind of his long-lost customer and came barreling down the aisle, as fast as his limping gait could take him.

“Reid,” Joe said, holding on to Reid’s shoulders as he smiled at him. “What a treat, all three of my boys in the same day. Ollie and I were just talking about you. It’s good to see you upright.”

“Thank you. Good to be upright,” Reid said.

“We’ve been prayin’ for you every day. You know who I am, right?”

“Yes, I know who you are, Joe.”

Joe beamed. “I tell ya, nothin’ makes me happier than you rememberin’ little ole me.”

Ouch. He didn’t mean any harm by his words, I knew that, but the fact that Reid knew who Joe was—Joe, of all people—but had no idea who I was other than some random flower delivery guy? Jesus, that hurt more than I cared to admit. I needed to get out of there before any more of my heart or ego got crushed.

“You saw the new latte machine, right?” Joe said to him, as I capped my coffee.

“I did. It’s awfully fancy.”

“Nothing but top of the line for the Grab ’N Go, I tell ya.” Joe wrapped an arm around Reid’s shoulders and pointed at the machine with his cane. “Did you see all the features on this one? It’s even got a frother…”

Joe’s spiel gave me the out I needed to sneak down the aisle before Reid was able to ask any other questions about why I’d really been in his hospital room, or why my job description as a paramedic, as evidenced on my shirt, wasn’t exactly a position that worked inside the hospital, like I’d said. After paying for my drink, I snuck one last look at Reid.

He was here. He was okay. And even if he didn’t remember me, he was alive. That was enough, right?

As soon as I opened the passenger door to Big Bertha, Mike let out a stream of apologies.

“I’m so sorry, Ollie. I swear to God, I never would’ve brought you by if I’d thought for a second that Reid showing up was any kind of possibility.”

“It’s fine.” It wouldn’t change anything even having seen him. But at least I’d gotten to see him, which was something, I supposed.

“But he looks good, right? Did you talk? I thought I interrupted you talking.”

I sighed and leaned back on the headrest, no longer in the mood for coffee. “Just drive.”